


entwine

by Xorxos Brook (cdra)



Series: pandora hearts: hentai au [2]
Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mirrors, Teasing, sex against a window
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:17:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6831184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cdra/pseuds/Xorxos%20Brook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are parts of each other that they’ve swapped, things they’ve given over -- this twisted moment can be another of them, along with anything else Xerxes wanted from him. He already carries enough of his friend’s dark secrets; if he can offer any little thing for Xerxes to cling onto in return, Reim will give it gladly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	entwine

**Author's Note:**

> Notes for premise, again: some contractors have “cycles” based on some kind of weird chain reproduction thing, usually a chain is either “feminine” or “masculine” (nothing to do with the contractor’s or chain’s apparent gender) but they also sometimes flip-flop depending on factors like what other chains/contractors they’re around or whatever. they have a thing you take to keep people from being affected by it because it’d be especially bad if it happened while you were fighting or something but sometimes stuff happens. So it's sort of like an ABOverse, but fluid.
> 
> (Mad Hatter and March Hare are both very fluid/switch-type Chains, but because Xerxes spends so much time around Sharon, who's Equus is extremely dominant, he usually ends up flipped submissive. But not always.)
> 
> For whatever reason, I decided to write Break as amab again this time. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ this was more or less requested by my crazy enabler daughter

Somehow, this situation’s taken a strange turn -- in recent months, Reim’s found that the weakness between him and Xerxes is not a factor of _irresponsibility_ but merely a factor of the _two of them together,_  which has naturally become a complex matter.  He wants to “help”, in a way, if his friend will suffer like this -- but at the same time, this is dreadfully wrong, and still his instinct plays up in those moments and it seems like the magnetism becomes irresistible.  It’s a way to take a sort of “harmless revenge” for all the teasing he usually endures, but then, he can’t deny that he _enjoys_ it, _likes_ seeing Xerxes honest and lewd and desperate, likes the way he feels and, even if he wants to deny it with every fiber of his sanity, he relishes what it’s like to touch and kiss and _fuck_ someone with whom intimacy had always seemed like a far-off dream at best.

But this isn’t how it usually goes; he’s never been the one squirming and panting underneath the other’s body, pinned to his desk (and not even concerned with how his meticulous organization must have been destroyed) with ease as the albino pushes their hips together to earn another shaky gasp from Reim’s lips.

“Hmm~?  Now _this_ is interesting…” Xerxes’s voice betrays his lust as well as his hungry gaze; despite his size, his small and lithe build, he’s far strong enough to hold Reim down like this (then again, he doesn’t have any desire to struggle, unless maybe that would encourage the other to _continue_ ).  He leans into the crook of Reim’s neck, softly breathing against his tan skin (is _this_ how it feels for him?  for the slightest touches to burn so _hot_ , for mere breaths brushing his skin to bring an unspeakable desire overflowing from his hazy core?); Xerxes licks his thin lips and Reim’s seized by _impatience_ , writhing a bit more as he seeks out the slightest friction.

“Having you like this is quite the _opportunity_ , isn’t it~?” he hums, seeming pleased by the way Reim reacts to the pattern of breaths on his neck; as usual, he doesn’t seem interested in an actual _response_ , instead rolling his hips to earn another stifled moan.  “I’d be remiss not to take advantage of it… but then, whatever should I _do_ to you…?”

Immediately his mind is filled with _plenty_ of ideas, none of them fit to be spoken aloud (if they’re even fit to be _thought_ ), at that question, but once more he’s not expected to answer with anything but unsteady pants as Xerxes kisses his neck slowly.  Still, even as the maddening sensation sweeps through his mind, he tries to put together some sort of coherent sentence, but trying to think through words is unbearably difficult -- but if he speaks without thinking, he doesn’t want to know what kinds of things he’ll say.

It doesn’t help that Xerxes is purring contentedly into his throat as he licks and sucks, _enjoying_ making a mess of his nerves with a skilled tongue (and this is just his neck, he can only _imagine_ other possibilities) -- it’s distracting him, taking his thoughts spiraling into fantasies with ease despite how he scrambles for sensible words.  He’s completely at the Hatter’s mercy, like this, his mind burning with an urge it seems that only Xerxes can satisfy, but the thought of saying something like that aloud, too, is all too much to bear.

A stronger cry escapes his throat as a slim finger presses inside him, cool and slick -- with his mind wandering so he hadn’t even noticed Xerxes preparing quietly as his tongue teased at Reim’s body -- and somehow it’s as much as an embarrassment as it is a shock.  Still, it undeniably feels good, and his breath catches as another finger slowly joins the first.

“I think this look may suit _you_ better than me,” Xerxes purrs, lazily curling his fingers inside of Reim -- if he were in any state to retaliate, perhaps he’d make some sort of smart comment, but in place of words there come only gasps and an arch of his back to bring his chest up from his thoroughly-mussed desk.  The Hatter has a painful level of patience in this configuration, enough stubbornness and love of teasing to render the brunet a trembling, moaning _mess_ before he seems to even _consider_ moving to the main event; he knows _first-hand_ how this awful thing works, that it won’t end until he’s been properly _fucked_  so he must be doing it just out of _amusement!_

But any irritation he feels quickly melds together with _desperation_ , his grip on the edge of the desk tightening as the albino nips at his ear -- the _pressure_ is unbearable and yet it keeps _mounting_ , making the blood thrumming in his head all the more audible, releasing any grip he might have had on his expression (with his eyes half-lidded and his mouth agape to pant his breaths, he must look _horribly_ lewd, but he hasn’t any mind to spare for that).

It seems that Xerxes is on the same train of thought; for a moment he stops moving and leans back, surveying Reim’s expression and light flush on his body with fascination even as he whines in frustration.  “Xerx -- stop messing around, _please_ \--” he manages weakly, but the Hatter merely hums thoughtfully as he twists his fingers once more.

“I have an idea~”  Those words are ominous, to be sure, but Reim can only manage a slight glare in impatience as Xerxes grabs his hair with unexpected force -- only to pull his head back (an action which nets a conflicted gasp of its own) and hold it in front of the window by the desk.  In shock Reim seeks stability, arms coming out to catch his body against the glass -- he throws an irritated and confused glance back to the albino before Xerxes situates himself behind the Hare in kind, leaning over his back as he still holds tight on the back of his head.

“You can see yourself, _right~?_ ” a sing-song sadism finds its way into his voice as he presses Reim’s face closer to the window -- and surely enough, where his breath leaves fog on the glass he can see his expression in all its terrible perverted glory, and immediately he freezes up, his skin growing a shade redder at the sight.  “You know, someone else could, too…”  Xerxes whispers, sliding his cool, slickened fingers around to tease the other’s cock, “It’d be sort of funny, wouldn’t it?  What would they think, seeing proper Mister Reim in such a state~?”

There’s no way to respond to something like that, not in this situation --even if he feels like he’s losing it that thought is too shameful, and his words grow conflicted with the heat coursing through his body.  “Don’t -- don’t say things like that, it’s --” though he tries to protest, his breathing only growing more labored as the idea gnaws at his remaining sense of sanity and pale fingers play at his twitching erection, and of course Xerxes just laughs at him.

“I think you’d like it, based on _this_ ~”  He leans in closer, releasing the Hare’s hair so that he can focus both hands elsewhere.  “But don’t worry too much,” he whispers against the other’s ear, positioning himself at his entrance carefully, “I don’t really intend to let that happen.”  True enough, if he could think about it, he’d realize that practically no one could see a window this high up, but as it is Reim isn’t really sure how much to trust those words -- but then again, he can’t bring himself to care, not with how his thoughts are entirely fixed on the need for his friend to just _hurry up already_ and satisfy this burning _need._

And sure enough, Xerxes doesn’t make him wait any longer -- really, now that he can hear the way the albino’s breathing raggedly up close, it seems like a wonder that it’s taken this long -- and Reim throws his head back a bit as the other slides inside, choking back some sort of moan as the sensation overtakes his form.  With a low hiss the Hatter grips his hips, also taking a moment to adjust -- but he seems to grin a bit, too, giving a slight chuckle as he relaxes.  His voice draws low, almost threatening, as he whispers; “I don’t want… anyone but _me_ to see this.”

Before Reim can even process those words he’s being pressed into the window to a slow rhythm -- his response becomes merely a collection of sharp gasps, his words lost to snatches of pleas and thoughtless moans even as he _tries_ to hold it together.  His reflection makes it harder, somehow, even though it makes him want to hide these expressions more -- he can’t rightly ignore it, not any more than he can ignore Xerxes panting in his ear or how cold the glass feels against the heated skin of his arms.  He really _could_ be seen like this, with _that_ expression, and what _would_ they think?  Surely they’d laugh, or disparage him for it, he should just be disturbed by that -- but he’s not in his right mind, he hasn’t been for quite a while, and it only seems dimly and weirdly _exciting_ instead.

“Don’t get like this for anyone else,” Xerxes growls between thrusts, even though he must _know_ it’s not a terribly reasonable request.  “Let me keep this side of you -- selfishly.”

“Y-yes,” he has to agree, nothing else seems right at all, “A-anything you asked, I’d --” he can’t keep on the same sentence for long, not with how Xerxes’s thrusts are growing impatient and uneven.  “I don’t want to -- give anyone else --”  With every word the rhythm grows harsher and it grows harder to do much but lock his knees for stability and beg the Hatter’s name -- the simple desires of his body bled through his Contract are mixed together with something more _personal_ , it’s entirely _obvious_ now, the strange things he’s saying and thinking are more than enough proof.

(There are parts of each other that they’ve swapped, things they’ve given over -- this twisted moment can be another of them, along with anything else Xerxes wanted from him. He already carries enough of his friend’s dark secrets; if he can offer any little thing for him to cling onto in return he’d give it _readily_ , gladly even.)

Reim hears Xerxes gasp his name, too, as clipped nails digging into his hips and he thrusts harder yet -- and before the Hare knows it his back arches up and he has to clamp his throat shut not to _scream_ with his climax, his sensations too amplified and un-sensible for any measured response.  By the time he seems to come down from the sensation the other’s finished as well, though for a moment they merely stay in their precarious position -- but soon enough, Reim’s back buckles and they both slide to the floor, exhausted and panting.

The return to sanity is slow as ever, and Xerxes is flopped against him like a pleased cat when his senses seem to re-focus on the room at last.  For a moment he says nothing, merely shifting to recline his back against the window -- for just a moment, maybe it’s alright to stay like this.


End file.
